Clovers and a Stillness in The Air
by Furrynarwhals
Summary: In a world where the fae exist with special gifts, human kind lives in misery, a mysterious disappearance of the most powerful of these creatures causes ripples large enough to stir the conflicts simmering beneath the surface. One human sets out to discover the secret behind the fae themselves. Follow Theodore on this quest for knowledge in an Original Fantasy Tale
1. Preface: The Sleeping One

**Note:** The Awkward capitalization is on purpose. That's just how I roll. Thank you for reading this nameless story I wrote myself, even though it's published on ... It's not a fan fiction and is a completely original work. As such, there is no need for a disclaimer. This is something I wrote in my spare time, so updates will be sporadic at best. The other thing I will tell you is that the chapters may be updated or the structure of the story may change, as this is still a work in progress and the world building process hasn't been completed. But otherwise I have the general idea of the story down. Also, the story is rated T for possibly disturbing themes and violence in future chapters, so if you are not comfortable with that please be careful. And there is slight shonen ai (boy x boy) as well, very faint, but my yaoi trash self just couldn't resist the temptation. The best part about writing an original work is that your ships become a reality! That's all. -Furry Narwhals

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 **To The Reader: A Preface to this Journal By Theodore Watterson**

The Land of the Clovers was quiet. There was not a rustle in the seas of clovers of which the land was named, not a breath stirring the foggy air. The Ones Who Resided In The Fields were seemingly long gone, the little evidence of their existence no longer visible, seemingly erased by the winds of time. No creature dared to set foot in the vacant territory, that atmosphere of a looming disaster keeping many at bay, refusing to risk the Curse of which, while not openly spoken of, everyone kept in the back of their minds.

The hushed whispers of gossip and rumors flitting between the ears of people with too much suffering and not enough happiness tell of secret plots, of treachery and the selling out of one's own race. According to the village's busy-body housewife, Cassidey Maquireson, One oF The Fields orchestrated the destruction of Their own kind.

Others tell of a terrible sickness that wiped Them out, even with their supposed Mystical powers and advanced medicines. Or maybe a migration. There were many different theories as to what occurred to cause Them to seemingly Disappear.

But The Ones Who Resided In The Fields were not completely gone.

Yet another rumor being passed around depicts a remarkable picture. One Of The Fields was left behind, in a deep sleep from which They might never Awaken. A young One, not yet fully mastered the illusionary Skill that makes Them so elusive and Mystical.

If They can be awakened, the truth just might be in reach.

But there is much difficulty in curing an Ailment of which the origin is not known, seemingly impossible for a mere human. If a Fae were to try, maybe, but why would a fickle creature such as that help out a human? The only choice was to find a Gifted One. The rare anomaly where a human was born with a Skill.

Was there even One who possessed a Skill able to cure Ailments? The Ability to Cure is an incredibly rare Skill even among the Fae who possess gifts from birth. A human-even a Gifted One- had little chance of receiving it.

But that didn't stop those who were intrigued by the disappearance of The Ones Who Resided Among The Fields, including the king of the human realm.

Those Of The Fields' territory was rich in Mystical Elements, the like of which were rarely found in human lands. If the Humans were to obtain the Land of The Clovers, their kingdom would be sure to prosper.

So a reward was offered for anyone who could either prove that The Ones were gone from the land, and the place was traversable, or awaken the Sleeping One. The reward itself was fifty thousand Jemms, enough to fund a small castle town. So the Treasure hunters and Curious minds alike from the whole Realm of Skillful Creatures set out on a mission to find out the truth. Including myself, young as I am.

This Realm is filled with Dangers, and travel is not easy. In case I do not come back, I shall record the journey in my most Treasured Possession. If you are reading this, remember that no matter how strange or unreal the things recorded within these pages seem, it is all a record of true events. These things all happened to me, and they could happen to anyone else as well. So if you choose to join me on my quest, beware of the Dangers and Misfortune that befalls all who trespass upon the Land of the Clovers, and the domain of the Ones Who Resided In The Fields.

 **-** **Theodore Watterson**


	2. Chapter 1: The Journey to Tackle a Dream

**The Quest to Find the Gifted One: Day one**

Today is the day I have decided to set out on the journey to find a way to awaken the Sleeping One, for I have nothing to lose here in this tiny farming village of Represshire, and my welcome here at home is overstayed. Though she may not tell me straight out, i can sense the frustration my mother has with of the four children she had, I'm the only one still in the tiny shack I was raised in, and the second to be born. My younger sibling, Albert moved out to pursue the life of a jewelsmith when he was of fifteen years of age, while I am still unmarried and unemployed at my twenty-two years. It brings shame to my family, not that my interest in the sciences and discovering how Skills work doesn't do that enough.

So I packed up all my research gear, my test tubes and sample holders, my research journals, and my goggles, and I left at the crack of dawn. There's a certain pub in a certain village not all that far from this one where I'm sure I can find a suitable member for my Party. I left without telling my dear old mother, as I'm sure she would just try to stop me. She doesn't need me weighing her down any longer, and I left her the gift I had been working on ever since Albert said his last goodbye, giving one last scornful look in my direction.

It was time I got on the road to my dreams.

Any longer and I would be too late, too far into my short life to get anything done at all.

At the most I only have around ten or so left anyway. Anymore so and it would be remarkable.

And this is the best way for me to discover how to use the Gift I was born with. My family has a long history of being related to the fae on my father's side. Every two generations, a Gift would manifest itself in either the Eldest or Youngest child. The Blood had thinned out over many years of marrying humans, but it was still to be expected that one of my siblings, either my older or younger brothers. My younger sister, like myself, was a Middle Child, and was not expected to receive a Gift. Neither of my brethren showed signs of being Gifted, so when I began to experience weird phenomena, I realized that the impossible had happened.

The most useless of the bunch, the one seemingly without any talents or good looks, myself, Theodore Watterson was the one to receive the Gift. If my family knew, they would be ridiculed without mercy. I would become even more disliked by my kin than I am currently.

So I kept it a secret for sixteen years, not telling anyone I knew.

Until now.

Now is the time when I will use the Gift given to me by some twist of fate to help my family. Now is when I will pay back my poor mother for putting up with me all these years, as I set her up with enough Jemms that she will never have to lift a plow again.

This is when I follow the path to my dreams, and reject the life everyone said I would have. The life of a beggar, a good for nothing fool who relies upon the goodwill of others for the food on his table. My new path leads to the discovery of this Realm's' greatest secret. The Fae and the Skills they wield so naturally. If it takes me the rest of my natural life to do so, so be it. But never for a moment onwards will I stop on this Quest to knowledge.

The only thing standing in the way of my goal is the vacancy of my coin purse, and the long journey to the knowledge I seek.

If I'm correct, the person I plan on recruiting into my party will help eliminate that first obstacle on this steep slope. And after walking for the rest of the day, I should get there soon. Right now I'm traversing the worn, dusty path that stretches through the fields to the nearest village- Farkrie . The current home of one of the only people I ever called a friend. It is dusk now, and walking while distracted in the dark of night is not a wise decision. There is nothing more to record, other than the plain scenery of farms and wheat grass fields that adorn the path during the Harvest Season. The small village should be within sight before the coming of noon tomorrow.

\- **Theodore Watterson**


	3. Chapter 2: An Old Friend and a New Quest

**The Quest to Find the Gifted One : Day Two**

After traversing for nearly a day and a half, I have reached the village of Farkrie. This is where William moved all those years ago. It has been many a year since he told me I could come by anytime to collect my favor from him, but does he even still remember me? I could never forget Willy the Yellowbelly. That coward probably hasn't changed a smidge in the nine years since I last saw him.

His tall silhouette as he walked away, to follow the path he wanted to follow, it was what inspired me to take this chance. "Come by sometime and collect that favor I still owe you, Theo _bore_." Even William's use of the nickname I hate couldn't dampen the memory of his smile. It was like the setting sun was trying to rise once more through his expression. I hardly noticed the wetness on my face until he was long gone.

But that was in the past, and it's time I faced my inner demons that have plagued me all these years, as I found myself sketching pictures of that moment in my research journal.

I think I'll take him up on that favor now. As cruel as it might be, asking a man with that many fears to join me on this dangerous of a Quest, I can't do it alone. And who knows, Willy the Yellowbelly might have straightened out a few of his kinks in the years we've been apart. He can't still be afraid of frogs, that would be ridiculous.

My hypothesis has appeared to be false. I had to ask around, but I located The Coward's Roost easily enough. It seems Will was more fond of that nickname than he let on. He always a peculiar individual.

Terrified of almost everything, but for some reason, he had always wanted to open a pub. There was no opportunities for such a building in Represshire, so one day he packed up the few possessions he cared for, grabbed the thousand jemms he had been saving up since we met fifteen years ago, and grabbed a ride on a caravan that was passing through.

He left without telling me, but I stopped him on his way out of town. I could remember it as clearly as if it had happened yesterday.

He was going to leave me behind, after all we had been through together. He was going to leave me behind without even a goodbye. That worthless coward was just going to sneak away in the night without even giving me one last memory to hold on to. I woke up, and ran after him, catching up right before he reached the path to his dreams.

"Are you going to Farkrie? At this hour?"

I asked him, panting. It had been several months since the last time I had run that fast for so long. William that coward- he couldn't even look me in the face when he answered.

He nodded, staring at the bleeding sun as it sank behind a sea of golden baked grass. The lingering summer heat caused him to sweat -or was it nervousness? I stared at him as he closed his eyes and looked up at the sky as if he were praying to some deity in the clouds that could give him the answers he seeked.

And then he looked right at me, and smiled sadly. "I'm sorry, Theo. I guess I just couldn't wait long enough to bring you with me. Come by sometime and collect that favor I owe you." He turned and walked away from me, leaving my shocked form in the dark, alone. A tear I don't remember shedding streaked down my cheek.

That memory, as bittersweet at is was, still plagued me in my dreams, and even as I neared the worn old pub, I felt a tug on my heart strings. I had missed my friend so much. I would do almost anything to see him again after all this time. The scar on my back throbs in recognition. That mark represents the bond we share.

And it is my key to securing William's place on my party.

That softie would never stoop so low as to leave a blood debt unpaid, no matter how terrified he is. That is one of the reasons I desire his presence on this treacherous endeavor. When there is this much at stake, you need someone you can trust on your side. And if there's anyone I could trust in my sad group of acquaintances, it would be him.

I have reached the doorstep of the Coward's Roost, and opened the time-worn door handle. The dull roar of drunken tales and jokes reached my ears, a pleasant change from the mutters and scorn-filled glances that follow me in Represshire. It is nice, and it causes me to lets my guard down a little bit. I didn't sense any malice towards me in the dimly lit room, so there seems to be no reason to fear.

After analyzing the sparse data at my disposal, I have come to the conclusion that my Gift must have something to do with reading the feelings of others and sensing danger accordingly. On the way here, I grew rather weary of the same old woods I had studied many a time when I was young, and found that the ability to mimic the voices and mannerisms of others almost flawlessly is surprisingly easy for me.

There was a man who seemed sober enough to respond to any inquiries I might have on the far side of the fire pit. His matted, dark hair and heavy furs marked him as a hunter from the northern parts, and his intimidating gaze seemed designed to keep others at bay. His demeanor reminded me of a proud but lone wolf, daring nearby rivals to challenge his authority over his part of the bar.

Making my way over to him in as casual a manner I could manage, I pulled out the stool across from his, and sat down in it. He looked up at me, and glared fiercely. I felt no hostility radiating of him as I could with most who wished to pick a fight. So I was safe, for now.

"Excuse me, fellow patron. Would you know if the owner of this pub is here right now?"

The tired man gave me an equally tired stare, suspicion radiating off of his gaze like reflected light of a blade. Someone this wary wouldn't plan on getting drunk in a pub. He must be here for some other reason, such as to gather information.

"What's it to you, traveler?"

This was it. I had to do this correctly or it would all go to hell. I changed my demenor, channeling the past self of the one I was looking for. That innocent tone, and open body language which could disarm even the heaviest of scrutiny.

"I just have a favor to ask of him. We go way back, and I need his assistance."

The grizzled hunter glared at me harder for a few seconds, the distrust in his gaze dissipating as he took in my slight build and lack of weapons. He sighed, throwing back the last of his ale, then got up and grabbed his tankard.

"You seem harmless enough to me, weakling. Come, I'll bring you to the one you seek."

Inwardly congratulating myself for utilizing my new abilities, I followed the imposing man as he made his way through the drunken masses until he reached the well-polished oaken bar. Taking the tankard, he plopped it on the surface and called out in a clear voice.

"William, there's someone here who says he has a favor to ask of you!"

There was a loud clatter in the room that must have been the kitchen. Moments later, a rather familiar head of silvery-brown hair emerged from the doorway.

"A favor? From me? Is it a lovely wench who requires assistance-"

The jaunty tone, full of humor cut off abruptly as soon as his gray eyes caught mine. William looked both surprised and startled at the same time, his eyes widening into a familiar expression that would have caused me to laugh under different circumstances. Now it just made my throat tighten in anticipation of his reaction to this particular favor of which I am asking.

"T-Theodore? Is that you? What am I saying, of course it's you. Who else would come all the way here and not even bother to order a pint."

William tucked the ashen washcloth he wiped his hands on in one of the many pockets on his russet apron, and walked over to me where I stood, stock still, across from the doorway.

Taking hold of my elbow -like he did countless times before, back then when we were still just children with nothing to lose and not a care in the world- William guided me gently but firmly to the upper floor of the pub, where he slept and offered rooms for the night.

It wasn't necessary for him to continue to guide me like this, the slightly faster pace with which William walked causing the occasional stumble when one of my feet catches upon the roughly-hewn floorboards. But the bittersweet nostalgia flooding my brain with memories -of exploring the forest and running from many an angry wife after pinching a pie or pastry or even a chicken, what little terrors we were- it stopped me from pulling away. After so long, after so many sleepless nights spent brooding, wondering, what if I could have stopped him from leaving, I was finally seeing his face again.

How much had he changed, from that scruffy, impish little boy with a face full of softness, and round, rosy cheeks into a still playful, still slightly childish young man. The serious look on his face was unfamiliar as well. The only time William was serious as a child was when someone was in danger, and even then he would tremble slightly.

But now he was steadfast: his strides faltering slightly, but still falling with purpose and a little bit of what was probably confidence. This William knew what he was doing, and he knew why he was doing it. So different from myself, unsure even if I should have come here, to this place of dreams realized, to rip away an old friend from their happiness and safety.

If anyone's the coward now, it's me.

 **-to be continued**


End file.
